Bhí tráthnóna geal, fuar Nollag i mBaile Átha Cliath.

It was a bright, cold Christmas evening in Baile Átha Cliath.

Bhí an margadh Nollag lán le daoine agus lán le hathbheochan.

The Christmas market was full of people and brimming with revival.

Bhí an t-aer lán le boladh fíonna te agus sinséar, agus dathanna iontacha na soilse ag lonrú i ngach áit.

The air was filled with the smell of hot wines and ginger, and the wonderful colors of the lights were shining everywhere.

Bhí Cormac agus Niamh ag siúl go sona sásta tríd an margadh, ag iompar cupáin te mar dhíol spéise.

Cormac and Niamh were walking happily through the market, carrying hot cups as something of interest.

Bhí an t-atmaisféar draíochtach, agus bhí Niamh lán de dhóchas agus de ghliondar.

The atmosphere was magical, and Niamh was full of hope and joy.

Ach bhí rud éigin ar intinn ag Cormac.

But something was on Cormac's mind.

Bhí sé ag iarraidh ceist an-tábhachtach a chur ar Niamh, agus bhí sé róneirbhíseach.

He wanted to ask Niamh a very important question and he was very nervous.

Bhí áthas air an nóiméad foirfe a aimsiú, ach anois, le gach duine agus gach rud timpeall air, bhí an chuma ar an scéal nach bhfeadfadh sé an dea-nóiméad a chur ar fáil.

He was happy to find the perfect moment, but now, with everyone and everything around him, it seemed he couldn’t create the perfect moment.

Leag Niamh a súile ar na buaiceanna a bhí ar sheastáin éagsúla, agus gach rud a dhíoltar i lár an mhargaidh.

Niamh set her eyes on the peaks that were on various stands, and everything being sold in the middle of the market.

Bhí sí chomh dírithe air sin go ndearna sí dearmad ar Cormac ar feadh nóiméad.

She was so focused on that, she forgot about Cormac for a moment.

D'fhan Cormac ina sheasamh, ag féachaint thart orthu, aghaidh an domhain dearmadta aige anois.

Cormac stood still, looking around them, the world’s face now forgotten to him.

Tar éis tamaill, nuair a bhraith Cormac nach raibh Niamh le feiceáil, thosaigh faitíos ag teacht air.

After a while, when Cormac felt that Niamh wasn’t visible, he began to feel fear.

Thosaigh sé ag ciarógú tríd an slua, a chuid smaointe ag rasparáil leis.

He started to weave through the crowd, his thoughts racing.

Bhí an croí ina scornach aige, ach athghabh sé é féin go tapa.

His heart was in his throat, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Ceart go leor," arsa Cormac leis féin go muiníneach.

"Alright," Cormac said to himself confidently.

"Ligeann muid don lá a threorú muid.

"Let's let the day guide us."

" Tuig sé go gcaithfidh sé glacadh leis an lá mar atá sé.

He realized he had to accept the day as it is.

Sin é, faoi bhratach mhór soilse, a chuir sé amach ar bhóthar Niamh.

That's when, under a big banner of lights, he set out on the road after Niamh.

Bhí Niamh ansin, faoi dhroichead beag atá maisithe le soilse bána, ag féachaint suas le háthas fíor.

Niamh was there, under a small bridge decorated with white lights, looking up with true joy.

Agus ag an nóiméad sin, nuair a thit na ciaróga sneachta síos go réidh, ghabh Cormac an deis.

And at that moment, as the snowflakes gently fell, Cormac seized the opportunity.

"Niamh," ar sé go práinneach, "an dtiocfaidh tú liom i gcónaí?

"Niamh," he said urgently, "will you always come with me?

An bpósfaidh tú mé?

Will you marry me?"

"D'fhéach Niamh air le hiontas orthu, an domhan stopaithe ag sníomh gach rud imithe.

Niamh looked at him with surprise, the world stopped spinning, everything vanished.

Agus ansin, le meangadh gáire, arsa sí: "Is cinnte!

And then, with a smile, she said: "Of course!

Is aoibhinn liom é!

I'd love that!"

"Tháinig faoiseamh mór ar Cormac.

A huge relief came over Cormac.

Bhí an rud a cheap sé a bheith ar intinn sách foirfe i ndána, spontáineach beag ná raibh fós breá deáchaite.

What he thought needed to be mentally perfect turned out to be a slightly daring, spontaneous thing that was still beautifully executed.

Ní haon phlean a bhí aige is buntáiste a thabhairt riamh.

He had never planned to gain any advantage.

Bhí an tsíocháin agus an meon a roinn siad le chéile ábhar na fíorghaithne foirfe é.

The peace and mood they shared were the true essence of perfection.

Agus mar a chíoradar na caillí, ag scoilteadh trí na scamaill sneachta, choinnigh Cormac agus Niamh lámha lena chéile, ag gáire i gcomhar faoin gcuma iontach a bhí air ní na laethanta sin — ní de réir phlean, ach ó chroí.

And as they strolled along, cutting through the snow clouds, Cormac and Niamh held hands, laughing together at how wonderful those days appeared — not according to a plan, but from the heart.